Thinkingdog Publishing

There was a time—ah, the golden days—when my favorite guilty pleasure was sneaking onto social media in the middle of writing. I’d be knee-deep in a tense chapter, or elbow-deep in a horrifyingly overcomplicated spreadsheet, and I'd whisper to myself: “Just five minutes... you’ve earned it.” Five minutes would turn into thirty, naturally. Maybe forty. I’d scroll, like, laugh at memes involving dogs in hats, argue with someone over the correct ranking of Halloween candy (Reese’s is #1, don’t @ me), and maybe even post a selfie if I was feeling wild. Back then, social media was my oasis . My little hideaway of chaos and dopamine and questionable life choices. A snack for the brain. A tiny vacation. But somewhere along the way, the snack became the meal. One day I woke up and social media was no longer my escape. It was on my to-do list. My to-do list! Right there, in between “write 1,000 words” and “don’t forget to eat something green.” The thing is, if you’re an author n...